


Crave This Addiction

by goodnightnlou



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Depression, Dreams, Drug Addiction, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Overdose, Trauma, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightnlou/pseuds/goodnightnlou
Summary: (THIS IS AN ONGOING BOOK)Harry Styles, a man whose only ever known one thing in his life: heartbreak. While dealing with his seemingly life-long depression, he is also diagnosed with insomnia. There is no sleep for Harry Styles. How can he possibly fix a broken heart when he can’t even get a single night of rest because his head is too occupied?An overdosage of melatonin sends him into a deep sleep. Blue eyes consume him. But how unfair is it that he can only see those gorgeous eyes in his dreams?The only thing Harry Styles wants is the boy of his dreams, but will it cost him his health, or possibly his life?
Relationships: Larry Stylinson
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

The sun sets just above the horizon, cooling down the humid gusts of wind in the Upper East Side of New York. Children are trying to enjoy the last bits of light that they can hang on to before their parents call them in for supper. Cars are pulling up next to the curbs of their apartments. The sounds of the city start to die down from their previously blaring noises of music, cars, and people.

Even as everything seems to be settling down and peace seems to consume the hot June night, Harry Styles’ mind sounds like a civil war. Any fan of heavy metal would kill to have the monstrous sounds of his mind be recorded and sold on a record. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe it could make him stop thinking. No matter where he is or what time of day it is, he is always thinking. Sounds pretty normal right? We as humans think all of the time. We are always getting lost in our heads thinking about the future. So what could be so different about Harry?

Well, he doesn’t think about the future. Ever. No, his mind is always stuck in the past. No present. No future. Always the past. His mind is a broken record. Stuck on the same line. A constant repetition. A stutter. A category 5 hurricane sweeping over a small town. A tsunami coming down and crushing everything in its path. A tornado warning siren blaring through the night while parents are scrambling to fetch their children and bring them to the underground cellar.

Yeah, it’s like being stuck in an underground cellar even after the sirens have stopped. Screaming for anyone above the ground to hear you and let you out, but your closest neighbor is a mile away. And slowly but surely you come to realize that no one is going to save you. That is what Harry’s mind is like. Who could blame the man, though? He never asked for any of this. Never asked to be left with no one and nothing. Just the money in the bank account that his parents had set up for him when he was a kid.

Oh yes, the people of the Upper East Side knew Harry Styles was a troubled man. Never talked to a soul. Never bothered a soul. Seemed like he didn’t even have a soul. Just a pile of skin, bones, and organs that could do what any other functional human being with a soul could do.

Parents made sure that their children avoided apartment 1224: Harry’s place. Yes, they were aware that he seemed for the most part harmless, but you never know. Especially in New York City. That’s why as Harry walks down the cracked and rugged cement pavement, he can feel the eyes of worrying adults burning through him as they stare out their curtains. Doesn’t bother him, though. If he had to be a pawn in game of real life Clue, then so be it. At least there would finally be some variation in his life after four years ago.

The temperature was definitely dropping now. The high of that day had been a good 85 degrees fahrenheit with 75% humidity. It had to have been in the high 60’s now. Maybe four years ago Harry would have been enjoying the summer nights with his sister Gemma while they walked through the park and talked about anything and everything. He wishes he could. That can’t happen, though.

Time was certainly not on the 21 year old’s side however. He ended up finding himself staring beyond the glass that separated him from the outside world and Hell. Being lost in your head can only stall so much time. Guess they don’t love him either. Taking a deep breath and preparing himself for a shit show of fake emotions, he pulls open the double doors of the glass windowed building and walks in.

More eyes are averting towards Harry’s direction as he walks down the hall in his black wedged boots to the section of the hospital that he needs to be. He triggers the war in his head as he mentally curses himself out for wearing the goddamned boots. As much as he loves them, they only drag attention with their constant clicking.

Finally, he arrived at the section of the hospital where he would be seeing trauma and brain specialists. No, he did not put himself in here. He would never do such a thing to open up to a random human being about his story. All it took for him to end up here was many months ago when he tried to end it all after having an episode. If it weren’t for his neighbor hearing Harry’s agonizing screams and calling the cops, he probably wouldn’t be here. Although, sometimes he wished that no one ever heard him.

He was put on suicide watch for a long time and given many medications. However, he never seemed to progress. The doctors and therapists were so concerned that here he is now, about to have his brain scanned. What the fuck did he do to deserve this life?

“Mr. Styles, welcome back,” Dr. Cameron greeted, “Well let’s get right to it and not waste any time.” Wasting time was actually what he wanted. He needed just enough time to think over the last four years again, and then maybe, just maybe he would be ready for this. But no, when was life ever on his side? He was led into a huge room that smelled of heavy duty cleaning products. Stupid hospitals. Metal machinery was scattered in all different places of the room. The only one he knew that would be used on his was the huge tube that looked like where you would get an MRI done. Fun. How fun. Maybe if he’s lucky, the machine would collapse on him and take him right out.

“Okay Harry,” a young girl that he recognized as a nursing student, Alyssa, better known as Lissy, started, “Please change out of your clothes and put this gown on, and then you can lay on the bed and we’ll take the rest from there.” Lissy offered a sweet and reassuring smile in Harry’s direction. He liked her. Not in that way, but as a person. No, he wasn’t friends with her. But she was the only person he could actually tolerate. She didn’t have many friends, he wasn’t sure how since she was so friendly, practically a diamond in the rough, so he did the most he could to show her some affection.

After stripping, the cold draft from the room was going up his gown. Making him remember just where he is and how he got here. Hospitals were nothing but depression in building form. Who would be happy to go to a hospital? Every minute of every hour someone’s life is on the line. The person next door could already be dead. Someone can just be finding out that they only have a month to live. Who knows, maybe he’ll be receiving that same news after his brain is scanned.

Five hours, in actuality it’s only been thirty minutes, but it feels like five hours to Harry. Thirty minutes of nonstop thoughts. But now that he thinks about it, that’s probably what the doctors wanted; for him to think about all he could. God, this was going to be an interesting report. The swallowing thoughts were pulled from him as the doctors filed into the room and rolled the bed out from under the machine so Harry could sit up. He wonders what stupid medication they’ll put him on now. Can’t they just realize their shit will never work on him?

”To start off Mr. Styles,” fuck here we go, “Thank you for being cooperative during this process,” yeah yeah get to the point, “But, we are very concerned.”

“You don’t say,” Harry mumbles under his breath so they couldn’t hear him. Honestly, maybe if he were a little more confident and had the energy in him, he would scream it to the heavens. Another thing about hospitals, they drag everything out. Get to the point because if I have only a month to live, I want to spend every second away from here.

Fuck. Thoughts. Harry must’ve been too in his head to even realize that the doctors were talking to him. Good, he doesn’t want to know anyway. “Harry, may I ask, when was the last time you had a full night of sleep?,” Dr. Cameron asked with a voice tainted with concern and curiosity. This truly was a question that stumped the 21 year old, though. When was the last time he slept? God, it feels like forever. As a kid, he used to look forward to getting into comfortable pajamas and throwing the sheets over himself to drift off into the blackness and not have a care in the world where it took him. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like that.

Even though he had not done it since those months ago when he almost ended his life, Harry felt like crying. A type of cry where he would fall into the crook of hs mother’s shoulder while she wrapped a blanket around him and shushed him until he fell asleep. Had he really not slept for that long? How could it have come to this? Sleeping used to be his safe space. Away from all the dangers of the world. A place where he could find himself in another reality where everything was made of candy or he was the king of England. Now he doesn’t even remember what dreams are like. That is when he knew the answer.

”I don’t know,” his voice cracked and for the first time in a long time, pure emotion was heard. “I have not a clue as to when the last time I even slept was.” He couldn’t look at them. His eyes were glued to the floor and his naked legs that were poking out from the end of the short gown that they gave him. The color of his legs almost matched the milk white tile of the hospital floor. Usually at this time of the year he would start to get very tan from being out in the sun. That hot New York summer sun. When was the last time he even looked in a mirror? He waited for something, anything.

“Harry,” that familiar small voice cooed, he looked up to see Lissy, “From the activity of your brain that was monitored, it seems that you have the brain waves of an insomniac.” His head snapped up to meet the sorrowful looking hazelnut brown orbs of Lissy. Harry hoped that somewhere in those beautifully colored eyes that she was joking. But at last, he knew she was telling the truth. She wouldn’t lie to him. She was always so careful with him.

”So you’re saying that I have insomnia?” All of the doctors nodded. No, he would not believe them until he saw himself. There was no way things had gotten this bad. The mirror located across the room in the corner was calling his name. It felt like a Demontor’s kiss sucking out his soul. Not once in these last four years has he felt himself move this fast. He’s never had much energy, but the sudden adrenaline rush inside of him controlled him. Once he stood in front of that mirror, he wanted to shout at his own reflection that it was lying. But mirrors never lie. They show you for what you really are. What Harry saw in that mirror, could haunt him for an eternity.

There in front of him was a stranger. A tall, very slender, milk-white, eye-sunken skeleton. Maybe he would have thought that it was a skeleton if it weren’t for the skin and hair. Hair that had grown a little past his shoulders; wildly curly and untamed. Harry could have confused this figure for a random pedestrian on the New York City streets. Never would he have thought he was looking at himself. Then it clicked; this is why everyone who ever came across him kept their distance. They probably thought he was some sort of druggie that made a living off of selling in dark allies.

Everything seemed to be spinning as he kept looking more closely in the mirror. This can’t possibly be Harry Styles. When had that fruitful, healthy boy turned into this monster? Suddenly, his heart started speeding up at an abnormally unhealthy rate. The walls felt like they were closing in. The air was growing thinner with every shaking breath. Blood circulation was being cut from the head. And then, blackness.

————————

Thoughts. Swimming in his brain. Pictures becoming more clearer. Alive. Harry was feeling alive. But where had he gone? Where was he? How long had he be in complete nothingness feeling as if he were dead? As much as he would’ve liked to stay in this state not having to face the actual world, he knew that he had to open his eyes at one point. With much unwanted force, he slowly opened his eyes only to feel partially blinded by the bright lights from above. Maybe he was dead?

As the stabbing pain in his eyes was starting to subside, his vision was slowly coming back to him. And apparently his hearing, too. There was a beeping sound that matched the pulse of his heart. Slowly sitting up, Harry looked to his side to see a heart monitor. Weird. Wasn’t he in the other room with the mirror? Looking down he suddenly noticed he was on a hospital bed in a completely different room. Confused, and quite honestly scared, Harry took the ‘Nurse’ button from the side of the bed and clicked it multiple times.

The door is thrown open to reveal a relived and worried looking Lissy. She rushed over to his side and let out a big sigh. “Harry, thank God you’re okay. I was so worried about you,” Harry just stared at her blankly wanting to ask her what had happened, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice. As much as it should have been a nice thing to know that Lissy was worried about him, he felt guilty. Guilty that he caused someone trouble.

Lissy went over to the side of the room and poured some water into a cup and handed it to Harry. “Drink this, it’ll clear up your throat and give you some more hydration even though you’re already hooked up to an IV.” His gaze averted directly down to his arm. How had he not noticed he was wired up to an IV. Couldn’t blame him though, barely even noticeable.

”You’re probably confused as to how you ended up here, so I’ll tell you just as long as you keep drinking that water,” she gave him a stern look as she looked down at the untouched glass. “It was weird. After finding out you had insomnia, you ran over to the mirror. We were quite concerned because we didn’t think that anyone running on basically no sleep should be moving that fast,” Harry sipped slowly on his water liking the feel of how it went down his throat and took the rough feeling away. He hates a dry throat. Especially since he liked to sing. Did you know that? Singing is the only sort of peace Harry has found in his life ever since that one day.

”You kind of just stared into it for a minute. Kind of freaky. You looked like you saw a ghost. Then, you started panicking and went into a full panic attack and fainted. Now you’re here,” Lissy finished with a nervous laugh. So that’s what happened. A panic attack. And now he is here in a hospital bed, under some paper thin covers, and hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. He could probably make a good living off of selling his stories about all the unfortunate shit that has happened to him in his life. People love a good drama. 

The young nursing student could tell that Harry was lost in thought and she decided not to break it. She knew he needed to process everything. His life was not an easy one. She felt pretty fortunate compared to Harry. Having to go through what he did at 17 years old is not something that she would wish on anybody. All she wanted for the boy, well, man, was good health. She had hope. So much hope. Somehow, someway, he was going to find happiness. And that is all she cared about.

Lissy looked back at Harry to find him staring at her already. She felt her cheeks flush. She knew the boy didn’t have feelings for her, but who was she not to at least feel a little something for the man. “So how am I supposed to cure this insomnia?,” Harry asked in his slow, deep and raspy voice. A voice that would probably come off as sex appeal to any girl if it weren’t for the fact that he looked practically dead. 

“Simple. Melatonin. Should be able to put you right to sleep. You have to be careful, though. You do not want to take too much of it.” Lissy warned him in a very serious manner. It reminded him of when his mother used to scold him as a kid for doing something that he shouldn’t. But he was a mommy’s boy, so he always listened to his mother. And right now, he felt like he should really be listening to this nurse just as he would be listening to Anne. 

“I can’t imagine it could be anything too bad. I mean, it’s just supposed to help you sleep better. What’s extra sleep going to do to me?,” Harry asked with genuine curiosity. What would he know about medicine? He wasn’t a doctor. But honestly, how much harm could be done?

”Well yeah, an overdose can cause excessive sleeping, but that’s not the only thing,” Lissy straightened her back, “You can also experience the opposite effect it’s supposed to have and make you get no sleep. You’ll be extremely tired during the day. And if you do sleep, you can experience extreme nightmares. There’s a chance of developing a sleep paralysis if it continues.” Wow. Who would’ve thought something as harmless sounding as melatonin could do so much bad to you? Harry doesn’t see why he or Lissy should have to worry about overdosing. Yeah he may have clinical depression and trauma and now insomnia, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Another shared glance and they seemed to be on the same wavelength. The small girl, but in reality tall for a girl, Harry is just huge, got up from her stool where the counter was and came to his bedside. She placed her hand on his, not in a way that seemed like she was invading his space, but more of a friendly caring way.

“Harry,” she mustered in the most calming voice, “Please promise me that when I give you these pills,” she pulled out a container from her pocket, “That you will not take more than you are required for each night.” Harry let his emerald orbs settle into alignment with her hazelnut brown ones. As much as he knew it should be a simple yes, he felt conflicted. He had this feeling that somehow he would end up breaking his promise. Why? He couldn’t tell you. He doesn’t even know himself. There’s just this feeling. Noticing the small glint of hope fading from Lissy’s eyes, he knew he didn’t want to leave this hospital having her worry even more about him. It was not fair. So out of sympathy for the poor girl, he nodded his head. The girl gave him a big smile and handed him the bottle, informing him that he would be discharged in the morning.

Why did he feel like this was going to go wrong?

————————

The sun was nowhere to be found that morning. Gray clouds took over the sky. The air was a lot cooler and not so thick from humidity. Wind was rustling throughout the trees causing the green leaves to be swept off of their branches and tossed around the sky. The answer was quite obvious to anyone who knew the weather patterns of the east coast; there was going to be a thunderstorm. The extreme humidity from the day before gave it away. And so do the darkening clouds.

Black-wedged boots clicked hurriedly along the pavement. Harry knew the storms wouldn’t be coming until later that night, but he did not want to be outside any longer than he had to. He hated any sort of bad weather. Cloudy, rainy, stormy, snowy, you name it. He hated it. New York obviously wouldn’t seem like a place to be living in then if you were not up for bad weather, but it wasn’t like Harry could just pack up and move. Hell no. The money just wasn’t there. It was a struggle to already keep up with the overpriced rent for the apartment. He sacrificed not having a car so paying off all of his expenses would be much easier. Not like he wanted a car anyway. 

The usual kids on the street did not seem to be out today. Only making things slightly better for Harry knowing that he won’t have to deal with the parents staring at him as if he might abduct their children. He wants kids one day. The thought of being a father always excited him. But right now, he was too young, too broke, and too fucked up. No person would ever want to have sex with him if they knew how dead he acted and no adoption agency would let someone like him even step foot into their building. 

Harry was pretty aware of his sexuality. He was very much bisexual. Figured that out a long time ago when he was in his sophomore year of high school. Ended up having a crush on the soccer captain and exchange student, Calum Hood. It wasn’t like Harry was bullied or anything for his sexuality. In fact, even though Calum didn’t reciprocate his feelings because he was straight, they ended up being great friends and Calum was very supportive of Harry. Sometimes he thinks about his Australian friend. Whatever happened to him after Harry dropped out in senior year because of the...incident.

He knows it’s not that hard and can just go on to Instagram or something and look him up, but he doesn’t even remember the last time he went on social media. For all he knows, Calum could be dead. He hopes not, though. Maybe if he ever gets better, he’ll go hunt him down and rekindle their friendship. Harry does owe a lot to the raven haired kid. He helped him find his love for music.

Calum ended up taking singing lessons and then taught himself how to play bass. Harry thought he was pretty fucking incredible, too bad he was straight. One day after school, Calum was trying to write a song but did not know how the lyrics would be sung, so he turned to his curly headed friend and asked him to give it a try for him. Harry, never once letting a note slip out of his mouth, maybe except for primary school, refused to do it in order to save himself from embarrassment. After much harassing from the Australian lad, Harry gave in and sang the lyrics in the way he thought they should be sang. The end product was a jaw dropped, wide-eyed Calum. Ever since then, Harry has had a deep passion for music.

Finally reaching apartment 1224, Harry was able to stop himself from venturing into thoughts of his high school best friend six feet under the ground. Eh, would be just Harry’s luck wouldn’t it? Upon entering, Harry kicked off his boots and ran up the steps in desperate need of a shower. He smelled disgustingly of hospital cleaning products. 

After a pretty cold shower, because let’s face it, Harry couldn’t pay off his last heating bill in time, he decided to dress in something that would be fitting for a stay in type of day. His closet really only consisted of patterned button ups, some t-shirts, a jumper or two, and black skinny jeans. However, Harry felt like he was growing out of that style. If he had the money, he would go to some of the shops and try and find his style. What did Harry do for a living? Well, he does what makes his heart happy, he makes music. Yeah, so he’s definitely not Ed Sheeran famous, but he does have a good following on Spotify. By good he means like 20,000 monthly listeners. Is it too big of him to dream of selling out Madison Square Garden one day on his “Never Going To Happen” world tour? Yeah, probably.

Harry feels like he knows exactly why he maybe can’t get his listeners so engaged with his music. It’s not that he’s a bad singer, no definitely not that. It’s his songwriting. Artists like Ed Sheeran do so well in the industry because of their impeccable lyricism. And let’s be honest, you can’t just write words down. There has to be a story. A motive. A muse. And well, how is Harry supposed to find his muse when he doesn’t have anything good to write about? He can write about the same trauma over and over again, but that will never cut it no matter how many times he rewords it. People want variety. And considering what happened in the hospital last night, does it really look like he has much variety in his life? 

Artists get away with writing just about anything; love, sex, pets, or maybe the best damn dinner they ever made. It really all sounds so easy to do. But listen to any Ed Sheeran song and you’ll swear it’s just Shakespeare in song form. He has to do it. If he wants to be able to move out of this shit apartment and get a better life, then he has to write a good song that doesn’t include anything about about his past. And that’s when the idea popped in his head.

Harry ran right to his bedside table and pulled out his notebook. The notebook of frustration and disappointment, a.k.a his songwriting book. At last, he feels like he has finally found a muse. A muse that could just make him write the song that starts a hopeful career for him. Now who might this muse be? Well, it might just be a certain hazelnut eyed nursing student. That’s right. Alyssa Clairmont. And no, Harry is not going to write a love song about the girl. In fact, this song is just going to be a concept that most songwriters might not even find themselves venturing in to. Lissy has shared a lot about herself with Harry even when he never asked to know. Sometimes she was the person on duty for his suicide watch. And in her terms, to “lighten the mood” she would talk about her life because she knew Harry wouldn’t say a word. Now what did he learn about this girl that inspired the idea for this song?

There’s the obvious that she didn’t have many friends. But there was much more to her story. She comes from North Carolina. She used to live with her grandma and grandpa, but after having a long conversation with her grandma about wanting to do something big with medical school, her grandma advised she moved up here to New York so she could get a head start on her studies in a pre-med school program. However, she has dreams of going to UCLA all the way on the west coast to finish her degree. She’s very much the bookworm type, but surprisingly you’ll catch her at some of the busiest clubs in the city. The men are constantly offering to buy her drinks and the women are jealous of how she steals the attention. It’s why she doesn’t have many friends. Everyone is envious of her. But as much attention as she gets from the men, she’ll never take one home. If it weren’t for his personal preference of men and current fucked up life, Lissy could definitely be very intriguing to Harry.

These are all the details that Harry needs to write the best song he has ever written so far. A song that could really show the world what he is. But how does he turn that story into a song? Yeah, it’s really not that simple. After a few good hours, the most Harry could come up with is a possible first verse and chorus. It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that his mind has come to a complete block. Pen is touching paper, but no words are being formed. A true writers block. Rage and frustration are rapidly building up in Harry waiting for him to make a scene to the bare walls of the apartment again. However, that is stopped short when a massive crack of thunder and flash of lightning come from just outside the window that Harry was so conveniently sat next to. Scared would be an understatement. He was terrified. Absolutely fucking terrified. 

Maybe he would have let it slide and turned up some music on full blast and tried to ignore the storm if it weren’t for the amber alert that he received on his phone warning him of severe thunderstorms. No regular storm gets an amber alert. Harry knew he was in for deep shit. As the rustling sounds of trees and the slapping of heavy rain against the window become increasingly louder, so do the memories in Harry’s head. They seem worse than ever. He can see glimpses of the black car, his mom, Gemma, his dad, and himself. He can feel the pain of a broken arm and two fractured ribs. There’s an image of a bend in the road and falling rain. The sounds of screams are rattling in his brain. A squeeze from Gemma’s hand.

He couldn’t do this. Simultaneously, there was somehow a storm going on outside and one going on inside his head. The air was feeling thinner again. Harry was practically gasping for air as if some invisible force had him in a chokehold and was crushing his windpipe. The need for all of this to somehow go away was urgent. Harry ran to his bed like a toddler does when they think a monster is in their closet so they go to their parents room. Throwing himself under the covers and closing his eyes, he desperately tries to make himself go to sleep. The problem is is that he can’t. Harry was about to scream when he felt a wetness on his face. He thought the storm had somehow gotten inside and was trying to drown him and claim what it should have all those year ago, until he realized the wetness was his own tears. That’s when the power cut out.

Panic. Pure panic. That’s all he could feel. Panic was consuming his lungs. Churning his insides around. Even as a 21 year old man, Harry found himself screaming out for his parents, for his sister. But no one would come. How could they possibly come? Was this payback? Building up enough courage to crack open an eye while both of the storms still raged sending Harry into a frantic episode, he caught a glimpse of something of a cylindrical shape: the melatonin.

He knew. He only promised just last night that he would be smart while taking these. But he did not think two simple pills would drown all of this out. So he quickly swiped the bottle from the table, tossed off the lid, and let two tablets fall into his hand, then four, then six, and somehow eight. Harry took a dosage of four times the amount he was supposed to take, but he didn’t care. Everything just had to stop. He needed the mocking sound of the rain to shut up and he needed the pleading voices of his family to fade away and leave him alone. Why won’t they just leave him alone? Why aren’t the stupid fucking pills working? When will it finally stop? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST STOP!

And then it did.


	2. Chapter 2

It started as total darkness. 

Like being sucked in by a black hole. No, it didn’t feel scary. If anything, it felt quite comforting. The feeling was something of being in the center of the world’s biggest hug. A peace that anybody would crave. It felt like being home. Not a house sort of home. A home that feels like your safe spot. It’s like after having an extremely stressful day and then hopping into bed, plugging your earbuds in, and putting on your favorite artist. That kind of home. And that’s all Harry ever wanted these past four years.

The peace and tranquillity of the darkness was short-lived, though. Next thing he knew, he was plummeting into a bunch of different blurs of colors. He was sure that if you jumped off of Mount Everest, this is what it would look like as you’re quickly falling to your death. If he could scream, maybe he would. But even as he felt like his life was about to end in just a matter of seconds, he could not bring himself to let his screams disturb the peace of this place. Wherever he is.

He swears he remembers this feeling. A feeling that he would look forward to from the ages of five to seventeen before it all stopped. It was an out of body feeling. Almost as if you’re not on Earth anymore. Could this possibly be happening? Is he finally having a dream again? Is this why he hasn’t splattered to the ground yet? Because he can control what he does in his dreams and what his fate is? Yes, this has to be it. There is no other explanation. This is exactly how a dream feels. God, he has missed this so much. Now all he has to do is stop falling.

At last, he feels the soft thud of earth underneath him. His fingers are lightly tangled in the jade green grass that looks like it could use a trim. The scene around him is absolutely breathtaking. If he hadn’t looked up, he would’ve thought he landed on somebody’s front lawn, but behold, he was in a forest. Although the light from the sun was pretty much blocked out from the tops of the pine trees standing tall and proud above him, he could still make out most of the features around him. These pine trees could certainly be hundreds of years old, but they looked as strong and healthy as ever. There was stream of deep blue, crystal water, cutting the forest in half. Fish seemed to have mad a home out of the clean looking water. The sight was beautiful. In all of his years of living, he had never seen anything of nature ever look so...perfect. 

His sightseeing was cut short though when he almost had a heart attack. A heart attack that if it weren’t for this being a dream, he probably would’ve died. Harry looked to his right leg to see what had brushed up against it. If it was a spider or any sort of huge insect, he was sure to make a run for it. However, what met his eyes was not something that he should be screaming about, but more of something that he should be taking into his arms and cuddling. Right there in front of him, tongue sticking out and tail wagging, was a small beagle puppy. The small dog slowly walked up to Harry, most likely trying to figure out if the tall, lanky figure was harmful, but as it realized that he was of no threat, the dog jumped up into Harry’s lap, pawing at his chest. Harry must admit that he’s always been more of a cat person, but this puppy had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Mostly white with scattered black and brown spots around his body, and those cute long and floppy ears. 

Was a forest really fit for a small dog like this? Or did Harry have to ridicule himself because he’s dreaming up things that a five year old would want to see in their sleep. Probably the latter because how else would a domesticated dog end up in a place like this? As much as Harry is a dead corpse on legs, he does have a big heart and hopes that this sweet little creature was not running from any danger. Carefully bringing his hand up to the petite puppy’s face to not scare it away, he starts scratching the animal’s ears, earning endearing little kicks from the dogs legs onto his thighs. Harry hadn’t felt a smile this genuine come from him in ages. The puppy’s radiance just shines right through him. 

“Oi, Ollie where are ya mate?” Harry is suddenly jumped from his thoughts about possibly taking the beagle wherever he ended up going. He hadn’t realized he was not alone in this forest. Not like he would know considering he has been in the same spot for a little over five minutes. Ollie’s, which is apparently the dog’s name, ears perk up at the sound of the masculine voice and quickly jumps from Harry’s lap to a figure that is coming out from the clearing of the brush. “Hey sweet boy, seems like you made a friend over there. Probably almost made the poor lad shit himself scared.” The man laughed at the tiny creature hopping up and down around him. 

Ollie seemed to be desperate to get his companions attention on the younger looking man who was still sitting in the the grass by the stream. He looked towards the direction of the man that he had never seen before in the forest. Usually it wouldn’t be a good idea to approach someone that you’ve never seen before, especially in a place like this, but since Ollie seemed to have had fun with the man, it seemed all right to go introduce himself. For all he knew, the curly headed man, he still has yet to see his face, could be lost and needed a way back home. And he was always one to give a helping hand.

Approaching the stranger, he started to make out more of body features. Nice muscular back, broad-but-not-too-broad shoulders, hair past the shoulders, long skinny legs, and pale arms with tattoos littering them. Once he was stood behind the man, only a foot away, he crouched down ever so slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry quickly turned around scared out of his mind at the sudden touch. What he didn’t expect was to come face to face with the absolute most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his whole life. Honestly beats sophomore year Calum. 

Surely Harry knew where he was now. He had to be dreaming of Heaven, because right in front of him was an angel crafted by God himself. Crystal blue eyes that matched the color of the stream, a strong jawline, cutely shaped nose, and longish hair pulled back from his face by a headband. Yeah, that just confirmed his thoughts . The stranger seemed shocked too to see Harry. They both didn’t know how to really explain it, but it was like their eyes were conversing in some sort of telepathic conversation with one another. In what was the span of thirty seconds, felt like thirty years just staring into each other’s eyes. It felt as if they knew each other, but that could not be possible. If Harry ever saw this angel on the streets of New York, he would have went pining after him day and night. No such luck exists like that in Harry’s world.

The silence was suddenly becoming too loud and one of them needed to hush it back to a calm. Finally, the smaller looking man spoke up. And let it be known, Harry could have simply passed away just from hearing that sweet, warm honeyed voice. “Hello, lad. My names Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” Louis. Loo-ee. That named could roll right off the tongue and never become boring. It was like eating a spoonful of ice cream and then immediately taking a sip of hot chocolate. The feeling is just perfection as it goes down your throat. A little provocative sounding. But we’re just trying to make analogies here.

Realizing that Louis was still looking at him waiting for Harry to introduce himself, he finally found his voice. “My names Harry Styles,” Harry muttered. Louis gave him a look that was very similar to one of confusion. “Sorry mate? Your name is Hairstyles? Odd name don’t ya think?”. Embarrassment is not the way to describe how Harry is feeling right now. His eyes are now searching frantically for a cliff to jump off of. He’s always been aware that his deep voice and want-to-keep-to-myself demeanor has made people misunderstand his words. Mostly the reason why he doesn’t go out to public places anymore unless if it’s absolutely necessary. Now here he is making a gorgeous boy think his name is Hairstyles. Might have to put him on suicide watch again.

“No, sorry, God no my name is not Hairstyles. It’s Harry Styles,” he said in a much clearer tone this time. Louis’ crystal blue eyes widened at the realization of his mistake. Maybe if Harry looked a little closer he would’ve seen a tiny glint of fondness in the man’s eyes. But Harry did what he did best, kept his eyes averted down. “So sorry about that Harry. Don’t know what I was thinking honestly. Who would name their child something as silly as that,” he froze, “ Not that your name is silly. I quite fancy a name like Harry Styles.” A small smile started to form on Harry’s face. Louis, who he had met not even two minutes ago, was rambling. Rambling because he was the one who felt embarrassed about messing up his name and then thinking he insulted Harry. It was quite amusing. 

Deciding that the grass was not as interesting as Louis anymore, he shifted his gaze upwards to meet those delicate eyes. “No offense taken. Can you please tell me where I am though, Louis?” He had to. He just had to say his name again. The sounds of the syllables coming from him made his tongue get this tingly feeling. Looking at his surroundings again, it appears to have gotten lighter. The sun must be higher in the sky. Trying to force its way through any small holes that it can find between the leaves. One or two deer were also grazing around. It must be morning. At least in this dream it’s morning. By the time he downed that melatonin, it had only been eight o’clock at night.

Louis’ small voice broke Harry’s train of thought. Good, that was the only thing he would want disturbing him from his head. “You’re in Luna Silvam. Moon Forest.” Baffled, Harry looked at the smaller lad. Moon Forest? Never in his life had he heard of that. “What part of New York is that? Must be upstate. There are certainly no forests in the city. Long Island maybe?” 

The other man, who Harry only realized a few seconds ago had a Doncaster accent, gave Harry a look that said ‘what the hell are you talking about?’. Louis scrunched up his nose and looked deeply into the emerald green of Harry’s eyes. He must admit, they were a truly mesmerizing color. Never really cared for the color green before, but now he kind of likes it. Okay, loves it. “We are no where’s near New York, mate. Why would you think of such a silly thing like that? Has your mother or father never shown you a map of Sephalia?” He stopped his chuckling when he saw Harry’s very blank face. The look honestly scared Louis. Either Harry doesn’t know a damn thing about where he lives or—

“What’s Sephalia?” the Cheshire accented boy asked in a tiny voice. One that very well displayed that he was also frightened. Oh no. This was not good. Not good at all. It almost didn’t seem possible to Louis. No one has ever been able to do this before, so why can Harry? With a shaky intake of breath, Louis asked the question that would piece everything together.

“Harry, love, are you from Earth?” Not that it should be appropriate in any situation, but the 21 year old couldn’t help but burst into laughter. What kind of thing was that to ask someone? Did this older looking lad in front of him still believe in aliens? That would be a pure shame, having to tell the Donny boy that there were no such thing as the extraterrestrial. It almost hurts as much as when a parent has to inform their child there is no actual Santa Claus, and they’re the ones that have been putting presents under the tree this entire time. Truly disheartening.

However, Louis’ silence did not do well for the dry lump forming in the back of Harry’s throat. Should he be taking this seriously? Maybe just humor him? “Yeah, but what kind of question is that to ask? Obviously you are too,” he looked Louis dead in the eyes noticing that there was not a trace of humor on his beautiful facial features, “Right Louis?” With a small shake of Louis’ head, the next words to fly out of Harry’s mouth seemed quite fitting. 

“What the fuck are you on about?” The blue eyed boy was startled as Harry suddenly shot up from the ground and got to this feet. There was clearly a major height difference between the two. And Harry’s tall, pale figure was quite frightening to say the least. It was like staring at a skeleton, but a skeleton with flesh and organs. How was he supposed to explain this to Harry? Hell, he could barely explain it himself. All he knew is that Harry didn’t belong here. He belonged to somewhere else. “Listen Harry, I know this might freak you out-“ he was interrupted by a booming voice, “Freak me out? Get the fuck on with it Louis. Just fucking tell me what’s going on and I’ll leave!” 

Leave? Neither were quite sure as to why Harry would say that. As much as Harry didn’t want to admit it, he kind of wanted to be here with Louis. And as much as Louis didn’t want to admit it, he wanted Harry to stay. But no, no he could never do that to this beautiful man that looked like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. You could honestly put the man on display at the Louvre and travelers from all across the world would come just to take a look. Of course there would be a ‘No photos authorized’ sign. Keeping Harry here would be just too selfish. Just like how taking a picture of him would be too selfish. And keeping him here would take him away from something else. A life. Now that, that’s selfish.

Besides, why would someone like Harry want to hang around with Louis? A snap from a pair of fingers suddenly took him out of his trance. “Louis answer my question!” Right. Harry wanted an answer. Fuck this was not easy. “Harry, you’re not on Earth right now. You’re not even in the same universe as Earth anymore. Right now, you’re in Sephalia. Sixteen lightyears away from Earth.” 

Thank God for Ollie making sure that there was not pure silence between the two. The silence would have been too heavy. It already felt like there was a massive weight crushing down on the two of them. This couldn’t be good for the environment.

“And how did I end up here? How did you end up here?” Harry said very, very slowly. To tell the truth, he was scared of knowing the truth. There just wasn’t something right about any of this. Looking up at the smaller boy in front of him, he realized a distance had grown between them. It teared at his heart a little knowing that it was most likely his fault. He was the one who raised his voice at Louis. He knew Louis did nothing wrong. There was absolutely no reason for why he’s acting like such a bitch.

When or how it happened, he had no idea. But all he knew was that Louis had a hold on his hand, staring him dead straight in the eyes like he was about to deliver the most important news of his entire life. And now he’s guessing that he should brace himself for the worst. And oh yes, the news was not going to go over well. “Harry, I don’t know how you ended up here. This has never happened. In your real body, you’re sleeping right now. In your real body, you overdosed on medication. That’s how you got here.”

“I’m here because I took a few more pills than I was supposed to? And you didn’t answer my question as to why you’re here in my dreams.” Louis’ hands ran over his face trying to calm himself down before he put too much information on Harry all at once. He had to do this piece by piece.

“Harry...”

“What?”

“I’m not the one who visited you in your dreams.”

“The hell do you mean?”

“You came here. Your brain led you here to Sephalia.”

“So why are you here?”

“This my universe.”

“There’s no such thing. The only human life is on Earth.”

“Harry.”

“Louis.”

“There technically is no life on Sephalia.”

“Oh, you’re the only one here?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Harry. I’m dead.”

“Pft aren’t we all?”

“No Harry. My point is that there is no actual life human Life on Sephalia because Sephalia is the Afterlife.”

“The Afterlife is Heaven.”

“Yeah, and so is Sephalia.”

“Then what’s the difference?”

“Reasoning of death.”

“And how did you end up in Sephalia and not Heaven?”

“I was an addict.”

“Addict?”

“Yes. I was addicted to heroine.”

“Then why-“

“Don’t you get it Harry? This dream of yours is a lesson to you. I never got a warning. After a long night out with the boys and doing hard drugs, I didn’t realize just how much heroine I injected in my veins. Last thing I remember on Earth was passing out on my bed. Next thing I knew, I was here.”

“So you are dead?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure I mentioned that already.”

“But I’m not an addict.”

“Oh you’re not?”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you did just before you fell asleep.”

Shock. Pure shock coursed through Harry’s veins. Louis’ words coiled themselves around Harry’s brain like a snake and started to squeeze. He only had done it once, though. When he wakes up from all of this he knows that, no, he promises that he’ll never overdose on the melatonin. Then again, isn’t that what all addicts say? 

This felt like being in front of the hospital mirror all over again. He felt himself losing his balance and collapsing to the ground. His hearing seemed to be going too, but he could’ve sworn he heard Louis call out his name. That’s when he felt it. A drop slide down his face. His first and only thought was obvious: Rain.

Suddenly, he was having a panic attack again. He didn’t want the rain to come and get him. He did not want to be another victim.

Louis was terrified watching Harry thrash around the ground like that. In all of his years in the Life and Afterlife, he had never seen someone have a fit as bad as this one. The Doncaster boy was no stranger to them. When he was alive he used to have them quite frequently. But he did know how to stop them. He learned from his mother when she had to take care of him during every panic attack.

He knew the last thing that you should do when trying to calm someone down was touching them too quickly, he had to talk to Harry first. Getting down to his knees next to the violently shaking Harry, he got as close to the taller boy’s ear as possible. “Harry, hey love, it’s Louis, just try and listen to my voice okay?” It seemed that Harry’s ears were picking up on the sound, so he took that as a cue to keep going. “Please don’t be scared. I’m just going to try and touch you. I’m not going to harm you. Nothing is going to harm you. I promise you. Please trust me.” The calm, quiet, and warm tone to Louis’ voice was calming Harry down little by little. He heard Louis. He was trying his best to stay still so Louis would know it’s okay to touch him. It was so hard to stay still though when the rain just kept coming down. It felt like acid burning through his skin. Surely he would die.

Finally, he felt a pair of small arms coming around from under both of his. “If you can love, try and sit up. Go slow, take as much time as you need.” Louis knew he was being successful. Sure enough, Harry started to sit up which would make it easier to hold him. He doesn’t know why, but ever since he first saw Harry, he just wanted to have as much skin on skin contact as possible with the younger boy. And although this was not how he expected how he would get to hold him, it still was something. 

Harry’s head was finally rested in the crook of Louis’ neck. His restless sobs were becoming quiet choked gasps for air. His beautiful face was covered in hot tears that ended up making their way down his neck. Everything was much calmer now, so Louis took it upon himself to lightly swipe his thumb under the other boy’s eyes to reduce some of the wetness. Not knowing if it was completely okay because it might be invading personal space, but he decided ‘fuck it’, he brought his lips to the top of Harry’s head and planted a small kiss in his chocolate curls. They smelled sweetly of strawberry shampoo. It only made his heart beat a little more for the man that was wrapped up in his embrace.

Harry’s wet cheek slowly peeled of from Louis’ neck, making the older boy shiver with the coolness now exposed to his skin. Blue and green eyes finally met one another in a peaceful stare. It was like the calm after a storm. “Lou,” they were both a little shocked to hear just how worn out his voice sounded, like a finger rubbing against sandpaper, “How did we get dry?” Maybe Louis would’ve thought Harry was joking if it weren’t for the evident confusion written across his face.

“Hm? How do you mean, love?” He mumbled with his face still partially buried into Harry’s hair. “It was raining. That’s why I...um...you know—“ 

“You don’t have to tell me Harry. If you want to you can, but I would never want you to do it if you’re not ready. Please just tell me though, did your panic attack have anything to do with what I told you?” Harry shook his head. It was the most relieving thing ever, knowing that his words weren’t what caused that attack. He was a little too harsh with his last words to Harry.

The younger boy nestled his head back into the crook of Louis’ neck. They stayed like that for a while. Staring out into the forest. Listening to the steady flow of the stream, occasionally sloshing against a rock. Ollie was on the other side of the stream chasing the rabbits around. The only thing that could be heard in the forest was the stream and the breaths coming from both of the boys. The quiet was heavenly. But, at last.

“Lou?”

“Yes?”

“What if I want to come back?”

“Don’t do that Harry.”

“Why not? I...I want to come back here.”

“As much as I want you back here too, the only way you can come back is if you overdose again. And I’m not letting you do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because you have a whole life ahead of you Harry. If you keep coming back here you’ll end up dead like me and everyone else in Sephalia.”

“There’s not much of a life for me.”

“I’m sure there is. You must have friends, a family, a job. Why would you want to let go of any of that?”

“Well that’s the thing, none of those actually exist for me. I don’t have much to live for anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Please let me come back.”

“I’m not going to make decisions for you, Harry. You do what you want. Maybe if you come back I’ll show you the rest of Sephalia and you can make a decision for yourself.”

“Then I’m coming back.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only company I’ve got.”

“But you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m sure it’s worth it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“You should get going you’ll wake up soon.”

“Already?”

“Already.”

“Well then, bye Louis. I’ll see you next time.”

“Only if you want.”

“I think I do.”


	3. Chapter 3

Hot summer heat poured in through the small glass windows, heating up the room from the previous night’s chill. The Upper East Side had already woken up long ago and started their routine for the weekend. In New York City, the weekends are always busy. Whether it be from the tourists coming for a two day holiday, or simply just the residents going out with the family for a day. 

The weather forecaster’s predictions seemed to have been true to everyone’s delight. It was a perfect Saturday in June. Perfect day to get out of bed, make a full breakfast, do some gardening, and take a walk in the park. There was no reason to be sitting inside on a day like this. Look outside the windows and you’ll see that people of all ages were outside, soaking up the beauty of the day.

Everyone except Harry. 

No, the man could not get up from this bed until he finished this song. He thought of everything Lissy. He thought of how she acted in front of professionals and how she acted in front of a crowd at a party. It was hard to write the song when he wasn’t really all that attracted to the girl in that way. So, he took the approach of writing a song from the perspective of another man, but wrote it in the first person. Interesting concept, really. 

Sweat rolled down the back of his neck, running under the jumper that he had put on last night. Harry hated to sweat, especially when he couldn’t do anything about it. And right now he just couldn’t. If he got distracted for even a second, he knew the song would never come out right. And quite honestly, he didn’t have enough money to pay for the air conditioning right now. He could barely even pay for groceries sometimes. What a sad life he lives. Although, he has considered faking to be a homeless person and stand on the sidewalk of Fifth Avenue begging for spare change. The rich tourists always fell for the trap. Not that he’s actually done it before. Just a thought.

The process repeated itself: write, scribble out, write, scribble out, write, scribble out, write, scribb— and there it was. Finally, after hours upon hours of trying to think of the perfect words, he finally finished the song. And he knew, just  knew,  this was it. This was the material he needed to become a serious writer. When he finally gets the chance to add the instruments in and record the lyrics, it would be game changing. But what does every song need? A title. And by the looks of it, there wasn’t a title visible on any one of the papers he wrote on. It would seem like a nice gesture to call the song ‘Lissy’ or ‘Alyssa’ because she was the one who inspired all of this, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that just seemed a little weird considering they weren’t really even friends. Hell, he even had to change the name of the girl in the song just so if Lissy ever heard it, she wouldn’t question him. However, it was possibly already too obvious because of how he added in the part about being from the North Carolina. 

And in that very moment, that very thought, Harry Styles had found the title to his song: ‘Carolina’. Not too creepy, but still gives the nursing student the recognition she deserves for this masterpiece. Now that he finally felt victorious, what a feeling that truly was, he believes he has earned himself a nice shower and a change of clothes because he’s pretty sure he’s fucking soaked in sweat. For once, he’s happy he hasn’t completely paid off the heating bill yet because a cold shower was definitely needed. 

Maybe the day would’ve been normal if it weren’t for the events after his shower. After getting out, and walking back into his room to find some comfortable clothes for a hot summer day, he ended up banging into his bedside table. In the process, knocking over a few things. Sighing out of annoyance, he bent down to pick up what fell. His lamp, a framed picture of him and Gemma, his songwriting book, and a bottle. A bottle that he could’ve sworn he saw fly off the table from the impact of his leg colliding with it, but when he looked, it was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t even remember what was in that bottle. Why would he have it on his table anyway? 

Deciding he was just too lazy to go retrieve the bottle of unknown and forgotten contents, he slipped on a t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans, and just for good measurements that he didn’t sweat again, tied his long, curly hair into a bun. As he lay on his white bedsheets again, staring at the ceiling, he let thoughts travel through his head. It was weird, they were not his usual thoughts of his family, but more of his current life. That’s right, for the first time in four years, Harry Styles was finally thinking of the present. He wondered. Wondered what could be going on in everyone else’s live as this current moment. Social media had been a no-go zone for Harry for so long. Never even dared to open to applications such as Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or Snapchat. Of course he already had accounts on each one, he had them since he was 16. His fun on those apps only lasted a good year. Everyone from school probably thought he was dead by now. Hell, he should’ve been.

Looking over at the outdated iPhone 7, he wondered if he should, if he should finally go back to those apps and live in the present. Surprisingly he could afford his phone bills considering that he hasn’t bought a newer phone in years, and quite honestly, he never finds himself on his phone. There is no one to call. No one to text. And games just simply don’t amuse him. The only contact in his phone is the hospital. Says a lot about who he is and what he’s become. He doesn’t have any pictures in his camera roll, he deleted all of those. And he most certainly doesn’t take pictures nowadays. How is he supposed to take pictures when he can’t even look at himself in a mirror? The first time he saw himself in a mirror since four years ago was the other night when he was in the hospital. And oh shit, was he surprised.

Finally, deciding that he’s been stalling himself with his thoughts, with a shaky hand, he reached over and grabbed the phone. He didn’t need a password or a thumbprint, because really, who the fuck would want something from him? Thieves were probably too scared to get within a ten foot radius of him, scared that he would petrify them just by giving them one look in the eyes. The phone opened and all of the tiny square icons for all of the useless apps popped up. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling. There it was. The devil itself: Instagram. Harry knew he was already regretting this, but at the same time he felt really curious. When he finally clicked on the app, which was now a purple and orange color, everything looked so different to him. Would he even know how to work it anymore? Maybe this was a sign that he should just exit the app, power off the phone, and never look back at it again. But no, he couldn’t do that, he was a man.

Quickly taking a look at his own profile, he was brought back to when times were simpler. When he had a family, when he had friends, when people actually loved him. He noticed that he had a pretty good following of twenty thousand. His listeners must’ve found his account and decided to leave a nice follow for him. Didn’t see why they even bothered, though. The last time he ever posted a picture was dated April 21, 2016. He didn’t even look the same. That Harry actually took care of himself. That Harry could actually smile and make it genuine. That Harry wouldn’t blame himself for something that was completely out of his control.

Realizing how sick he was starting to feel after staring too long at his profile, Harry decided to move on. Maybe he could stalk his old friends and see what they’re up to now. Surely doing much bigger and better things than him. And what better person to start with than the one who changed his life in many ways? Calum Hood.

Honestly, he’s pretty sure Calum is off playing in a professional soccer league. The lad was wickedly talented at the sport. In his senior year he was getting offer after offer to attend colleges for free, just so he could be on their teams. He doesn’t see why anyone would not take up the scholarships. Free college, especially in the United States, who wouldn’t take it? You would have to be a complete idiot. College in America is a good tens of thousands of dollars, sometimes even over one hundred thousand depending on where you go. Calum certainly didn’t live in a wealthy family. Therefore, he must have gone to an insanely great college, and by now has probably been drafted into a professional team in another country. There was no other answer. 

But oh fuck was he wrong. Far from even being close. Calum’s account now had a following of 5.8 million followers. He thought he was right at first about his old friend being a soccer star, but what he didn’t expect to see was almost every picture consisting of Calum, a bass guitar, crowds of thousands, and three other lads. The Australian boy didn’t take up any of those scholarships. No, he left those behind to peruse a passion for music. And behold, he is in a band. Playing all over the world. According to his stalking, the band was called 5 Seconds of Summer. 

The band had four albums out. Each one having massive amounts of streams. They’ve broken records with songs such as ‘She Looks So Perfect’, ‘Youngblood’, and ‘Easier’. Four tours if you count the two that were openers. And to top all of that off, many adoring fans from all across the world. Yup, Calum Hood, his first ever male love interest, his closet high school friend, and the one who introduced him to his love of making music, is now world famous. The other lads in the bad weren’t too shabby looking themselves. Their names were apparently Luke, Michael, and Ashton. Honestly, they were quite attractive. But if Harry thought Calum was a solid ten in high school, then he would have to rethink that answer now because fuck, he was even more attractive now. That probably wouldn’t be any news to Calum considering he probably has young teenage girls going up to him practically eye fucking with him. Yup, he was probably just another ‘somebody’ in Calum’s big famous life.

The twenty one year old quite honestly didn’t know how to feel, guilty or jealous. Guilty, because he hasn’t been supporting someone that greatly impacted his teenage years. Jealous, because he wanted what Calum did, but he just couldn’t seem to ever get there. 

Suddenly feeling like the world’s most awful person, he quickly exited the app and shut off his phone. How come everyone else got such a better life? Why was he the one that couldn’t have anything without it being ripped away from him? He wished someone would just listen. If someone could just understand him. 

Without really understanding it, he felt like there was someone. But that’s crazy talk, who could possibly be out there that cared for him? Certainly not anyone on this Earth. Maybe in another life. No, that didn’t sound right, but for some odd reason, it felt right.

Looking out his window, Harry realized another day slipped by him. The sun was starting to set. Everyone was heading back home to settle down for the night. Home. He wanted that. He craved that. This silly apartment was not home. Not in the slightest. 

Laying back on his pillows that started to smell like his strawberry shampoo, he figured he should close his eyes and get some rest. Yes it was pretty early to be going to sleep, but he certainly didn’t have anything to be staying up for. He closed his eyes for one, two, three, four seconds and that’s when his eyes shot wide open. Harry could’ve sworn, could’ve sworn on every Greek God’s name that he just saw something when his eyes were closed. It was like a flash of lightning. It was there, and then it wasn’t. The only thing that he could make out, because perhaps it was the only thing that was actually there, was a pair of deep, crystal blue irises. Whose? Not a clue. They seemed so familiar. Almost like he once came face to face with them. That couldn’t be possible. If Harry ever saw a pair of blue eyes that beautiful, he wouldn’t be able to look away from the poor soul. 

After what he saw there was no way he could possibly go to sleep. In a way, he was scared to see those eyes again. Scared because he knew they would pull him in too deep. This reminded him of another time when he envisioned a pair of eyes. His sister’s. Her hazel eyes burning right into him. Almost as if she were punishing him and chanting ‘this is all your fault’. He knew it wasn’t his fault, there was nothing he had done wrong, but somehow, it still felt like he was to blame.

— — — — — — — —

Sleep never came. Never feeling tired, Harry just rolled around in his bed the entire night. Well...nights. It had been three days and he hasn’t even gotten an hour of sleep. Three nights since he had envisioned those blue eyes. Three nights of wondering whose they belonged to because they seemed way too familiar. This has to be some sort of sick joke God was playing on him because what the fuck was even going on? Angry would not be the only way to describe how he felt after these last few sleepless nights. There was also frustration, confusion, and sadness. The poor man just wanted answers. And why did he feel like there was something that he was supposed to be doing?

Sometimes Harry felt like if it weren’t for how little money he had left, he would be an alcoholic. How could you ever blame him? His life had become nothing but pure confusion. It was one giant ball of questions that would only ever go unanswered. Every day, every hour, every minute, and every second he was asking himself yet another question that he didn’t know the answer to. He felt like he should know the answers, but that’s just asking too much from him to go and find them. He’s better off staying here in this apartment, wasting away. 

He doesn’t quite understand why, but he feels like he doesn’t remember anything from the last week. Not a damn thing. For hours, he’s just been sitting on his bed trying to remember something,  anything , but nothing ever came to mind. He knew there was something. Honestly though, how was he supposed to remember one specific thing when the days are starting to blend into one another?Sometimes he’ll look at the clock and it will be one o’clock, then maybe after what feels like five minutes he will look back and it will be nine o’clock. It felt like one huge day, but in reality it had been four days. Maybe he was in Wonderland? Yeah, maybe he was Alice. That girl was definitely high off her ass and certainly had no recollection of what time even was. Harry in Wonderland? Kind of has a ring to it.

Never in his twenty one years of living did Harry ever think he would crave sleep this much. However, he just couldn’t. His thoughts were blocking the part of his brain that would alarm him that he should get some rest. Was there something he should be taking for that? Not recalling the doctors ever giving him anything, he just left it alone. Sleep would come to him eventually. 

Another thought; why the hell did he feel so lonely? He had been alone for four years now, why was there suddenly a difference? Maybe it was a stretch, but thinking all the way back to eleventh grade health class, Harry did remember the small lesson they had on hormones. However, Harry was pretty sure he wasn’t desperate for a good lay. People don’t appeal to him anymore. Huh, maybe he’s asexual? No couldn’t be that considering what he did the other night, or maybe it was day, when he got bored out of his mind. He felt like he was just missing someone. Mom? Dad? Gemma? No. It wasn’t that type of missing somebody. That’s heartbreak. But Harry’s heart was tugging at him like it was longing to see someone again, like in a crush sort of way. That’s crazy talk, though. How could he have a crush when he doesn’t ever leave the goddamn apartment? Harry just felt stupid, so he shut off his head and just blankly stared at the ceiling waiting for the night to shift into daylight without him getting any sleep.

Two more days had passed with no sleep. And that is when he finally lost it. Out of pure rage and frustration, Harry jolted up from his bed and started slamming his body into furniture, trying to break anything in his path. The neighbors would certainly be keeping their children inside now. Lamps were thrown to the floor, picture frames shattered, cologne canisters and clothes were thrown around the place. Some would have thought a hurricane hit the east coast, but only in Harry’s apartment. Unfortunately for him, his tantrum was short lived as he suddenly felt heavily nauseated. Already feeling the stomach acid coming up his esophagus, he dropped the book in his hand and rushed to the bathroom. He made it just in time as he reached the toilet and vomited everything, if there really was anything, in his stomach up. After a minute, he laid on the floor, dry heaving until he finally felt somewhat okay to sit up again. 

Trying as best as he could to hold onto the counter to try and find his placement on his feet, he eventually was able to rest his hands on the counter. Terrified of the thought of looking up right ahead of him, he counted to three to gain his composure. After three, his composure was gone. Completely left his body. What he saw in the mirror right in front of him was worse than what he remembered seeing in the hospital mirror. His under eyes were dark purple and red, his eyes were bloodshot, his hair greasy from not having a shower in days, and his skin looking corpse-white. Tears trickled down his face. Silently praying that they would moisturize his skin and bring some color back. Next thing he knew, he was doubled over the toilet again, throwing up all of his fear. 

Very off-balance and trying to cling on to anything he possibly could, Harry made his way back to his bedroom. Frantically looking left and right to try and find something that could make this nightmare that he was living in go away. He wanted peace. He needed peace. There was something in the back of his mind telling him there was something here in this room, something that could bring him comfort and happiness if he just took it. What was it and where was it? Harry didn’t know. A feeling of hopelessness took over him and he kicked his leg out hoping for it to just collide with the bed frame so he could feel any other pain besides this. But his foot did not collide with the metal bed frame, it collided with something that made a rattling sound. Curious, and honestly quite over with this shit, he got to his knees and looked under the bed. A bottle. He swiped it from under the bed where it lay in the darkness to bring it into the light. And suddenly, all of that lost memory from the days prior came back to him. The melatonin. And another memory came back in the form of a flash of blue irises. 

Louis. His Louis.


	4. Chapter 4

The bottle felt more heavier in his hand as each second ticked by. Weighing him down to the ground so that he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. The bottle just wanted his company. Wanted him to consume each shiny, transparent tablet that was stuffed inside of it. Should an inanimate object be this desperate for a human’s body? There was a whispering in his head, could swear it was the melatonin talking to him. 

“Use me Harry. Use me to take away the pain that you created yourself. You did this Harry. No one else did. Doesn’t matter how much you take, does it? You’ve already missed so much sleep. As everyone in the city wakes up everyday, you’re still here wide awake, tossing and turning. As everyone in the city settles down for the night to bring them sweet dreams, you only suffer with the thoughts that swim around your head keeping you up. Is that really fair to you? C’mon Harry, you need to catch up on every hour of sleep that you missed. Don’t be so selfish. Why, you’ve kept that poor boy in Sephalia waiting for your arrival. He probably believes you’ve already made your decision to never go back again. Poor thing just wanted to see your face at least one more time. Take me, Harry. Take as much as you’d like of me. I’m not stopping you. Think of it as a two-in-one deal, you get your sleep back and stop being scared of your reflection, and you’ll get to see the boy again. What was his name? Louis, was it?”

No, this was a bad idea. Stupid. Terrible. Louis told him the truth about Sephalia. About how you get there. It was quite an easy concept to understand after you hear the full story, only addicts go there. And Harry, well he didn’t want to think of himself as an addict. Ever. His body was telling him otherwise, though. It urged him to take a handful of the tablets and swallow them dry in this very moment. Was this too selfish to be doing to himself? Thought after thought came and went from his head. Thinking over what the outcome of this could be. 

After much thinking and stressing, he had his answer. Harry would take the the melatonin, as much as he could, to give his body what it needed. And also, maybe what  he  needed. Wanted, more like. It made sense to him now why he felt that surge of loneliness that one night; he missed the blue-eyed man he saw in the forest. This was a huge risk, however, just to see Louis again. But it was only just this once, right? He wouldn’t do it again. Yeah, only this once, not ever again.

With a small glance down to the bottle, he decided not to drag this on any longer than he had to. Quickly, his right hand found itself on the circular lid, and twisted it off with impatience. Lissy had told him to only take two pills for every night. But when you add up just how many nights of sleep he missed and multiply that by two, that was certainly a heavy, possibly deadly, dose.  Fuck it , he thought. He tilted the bottle in his hand and let however many fell into his palm be the dosage he would take. Six. Six tablets fell into his hand. Two less than the last time. The man felt a strange pang of sadness from the number of tablets. However, this would be his last time doing this. Might as well make it count. With that in mind, he plopped two more into his hand. This couldn’t be bad for his body, could it? He wouldn’t count it as overdosing, all he’s doing really is just making up for the nights that he didn’t take the medication. Yeah, seems reasonable enough.

Building as much saliva as he could in his mouth to make the tablets’ journey more smoother, he walked over to his bed and laid down. Passing out on the floor did not sound so appealing. His hands were becoming clammy whilst holding onto the pills, indicating that he was dragging this out. Last minute doubts were going through his head, but he couldn’t back out now. No, this is what he believed he had to do. And with that, he downed the eight tablets and closed his eyes, waiting for the darkness to cloud over his brain, and sleep take over him.

— — — — — — — —

To say the least, Louis was honestly a little saddened that he hadn’t seen the green-eyed, curly headed man. A piece of him hoped that after he left a few nights ago, that he would come back. But at the back of his head, he knew that it was not a good idea for Harry to come back. It was too dangerous, was practically risking his own health, his own life. He just wished Harry would come back once more. Louis promised to show him Sephalia. Did Harry not want that anymore? In all fairness, it was probably best that he didn’t. However, the small man still found himself traveling into Moon Forest every night. He didn’t seem to find himself to be the only one missing Harry, however. Every time he’s traveled to the forest, Ollie always ran straight to the spot he found Harry in. In the end it was always the same response from the poor puppy, a bent head, puppy eyes, and a lowered tail.

Poor creature was taking it so hard. It was honestly rather a sad sight for Louis, the dog never really interacted with anyone but his owner and best companion, Louis, but the dog seemed to have a love for the curly headed man. And quite honestly, who wouldn’t? But hey, you didn’t hear that from him. To some people it might seem so odd as to why Louis would miss a stranger this much. Well, to be honest, he didn’t really have anybody here in Sephalia that he mingled with. All of his friends and family were still in the Life. They didn’t make stupid decisions that he did. Well, except for Liam, Zayn, and Niall. At least they’re not dead, though. From what he had heard from the Life, his friends actually ended up going to rehabilitation after Louis’ death, now they’re three months clean. Proud would be an understatement. He was so happy that they were able to do what he wasn’t. Sometimes, change was necessary. Even if it meant tragedy. 

Although their drug free lives would mean that they were never going to be reunited in the Afterlife with Louis, he thinks that’s the best for them. Yes, Sephalia was a beautiful place, but knowing how you got here makes you feel selfish and pathetic. A lot of the residents don’t seem to mind, however. They still thought drugs were a fun little toy in their lives, so they resorted to turning every little thing that they could into a drug. Real drugs were not accessible here. Sephalia was like a place to become clean in the Afterlife. Louis managed to do just that. Once he found out he was dead, it completely tore him a part. For days he would not come out of his home. Yes, there were also homes in this universe. Normal looking houses. Everyone had their own place. However, he could not call this place home. Home was where his friends and family were. But one stupid decision, and here he was. That’s all it takes. Anyways, he did not come out of his home for days until he heard scratching on his front door and small, high pitched whimpers. Curious as to what could possibly be making that noise, he opened the door only to be surprised with a puppy. The man absolutely adored dogs, so he made his decision right there at his doorstep to take it in. Now, how does a dog get into Sephalia?

This universe was designed to look as much like Earth as possible. Heaven and Sephalia were created at the same time. Both Afterlife’s looked like a carbon copy of Earth. That’s why Louis was so confused when he first got here and couldn’t find anyone he knew. So, evolution was exactly the same as it was on the green and blue planet. After millions of years, dogs were finally a creation that was made to exist in such a place. Technically all the animals here are dead too. Any form of life was dead, but you would never be able to tell just by looking around. Explains why Harry had no idea that Louis wasn’t in the Life. After realizing the puppy was a stray, he claimed the small creature as his and named him Ollie. Now they go everywhere together. And apparently, now they both feel the same longing for a certain living boy.

All hope was lost at this point. Almost an entire week has passed and there has been no sign of Harry. Maybe he realized that it was safer to take only the correct dosage every night. And good. Louis hoped that that was what he was doing. It was nice to have company in Sephalia for a little. Still, he doesn’t understand why, but he felt like he just had this connection with Harry. Although how he got here was also still a mystery. What happened to him had never happened before in any of the years that Sephalia was around. No one has ever been able to enter this universe unless if they died of an overdose. Harry certainly wasn’t dead, and that was the first time he ever overdosed on a drug. It was almost as if he was being warned. Maybe he was being warned of what could happen to him if he continues to pull shit like that? Or could it be that he was being warned of a certain fate? The latter could not be the case, though. If you were to envision your fate in such a powerful and rare way, you would have to come from the bloodline of a powerful psychic family. And once again, that couldn’t be possible. Louis had heard that the psychic family had died off. They were the only family that was left that held such a power. It was a blessing and a curse to have psychic powers. But this appeared to be more a curse for the poor family. 

Oh yeah, people with powers actually existed on Earth. There was seer’s, tele-kinetics, camouflager’s, flyer’s and many more. They were not as common as they used to be. Many of the bloodlines had died off. It was always something that was kept in the family. 

Late afternoon was slowly approaching, so Louis knew he had to get out of his head and get ready. He planned that today he would have a late lunch down in the forest with Ollie. Moon Forest at sunset was always an enchanting sight to see. The oranges, pinks, and purples always shot through the tops of the trees from the blazing sky above. The small man absolutely loved the month of June. Everything was just always so pretty later on in the day. For such a sad place to be, Sephalia was quite honestly beautiful. The village looked like something straight out of a Disney fairytale. Tall, healthy evergreen trees surrounded the village almost like a guard. The place was a real life Bob Ross painting. 

After his death, Louis didn’t possess the kind of appetite he used to have. On Earth, he would eat as much junk food he possibly could, now he eats very lightly. Most of his meals just consist of fruits and vegetables. Sepehalia provided plenty of organic foods, but there still was other foods that you’d find back on Earth. Interesting how you can be in completely different universes, but still indulge in the same delicacies. On his usual path down to the forest, there was a small market where you could buy all sorts of produce. So that seemed like the best option for a late lunch for both himself and Ollie. 

The market was owned by an older man, Mr. Cardelli. Mr. Cardelli overdosed on painkillers approximately fifteen years ago. So, he remains 73 for the rest of his Afterlife. That’s right, when you die, your age in the Afterlife remains forever. Louis, he would be 23 for forever in Sephalia. He would’ve turned 24 in a few months, but he went too quickly. The boy owes a lot to Mr. Cardelli, though. The man helped Louis get back on his feet not long after he entered Sephalia. He knew someone as young as Louis would not take all of this new information so well, so he befriended the young lad, told him everything there was to know. Now after a short few months, they have become pretty close. And quite honestly, Louis loved Mr. Cardelli’s selection of produce. 

He ended up purchasing some bananas, oranges, pineapple, clementines, grapes, honeydew, passionfruit, and apples. Of course though it would not be a delectable meal without some honey, peanut butter spread, and chocolate dip. The market owner made them from scratch and they were just heavenly. Whistling for Ollie to come catch up with him, the dog always got distracted by some sort of insect, they continued down their path to the forest. 

Walking into the forest at about four o’clock, it felt like seeing the forest for the first time ever again, it almost made him emotional. The grass was its usual long, silkiness and looking back at the beagle, Louis could tell the dog was enjoying the grass a little too much. “Oi mate! Don’t be eating the grass when I got you some treats!” He laughed softy as the dog ran to his side after simply just hearing the word ‘treats’. God, that dog loved his treats. 

Ollie was usually the one to pick out where they should sit, and it was not to the boy’s surprise at where the puppy wanted them to sit. The infamous spot that he now refers to as ‘The Harry Spot’. Although, it was quite a beautiful spot. Right next to the stream that flowed on for miles. The occasional deer would pass by and gnaw on some of the grass or berries from the bushes. Louis lay out the white fleece blanket for both of them to rest on. Taking out the pocket knife that he oh so conveniently carries with him everywhere, he sorts out the fruits and starts cutting them up on a small plate for himself. For Ollie, he cuts up a whole banana and tops it with some peanut butter. He swears that’s the only thing the dog eats. He learned that the first time he ever had to feed the dog. 

They both sat in silence as they ate their way through their fruits. And that’s when he heard it. A yell, and not even a second later, a splash. Louis quickly got to his feet to see what that was. There was nothing in sight for him to be able to see, though. Everything went completely quiet after the splash. It had come from the stream, but there was nothing there. It could have been a passing deer, but that yell certainly did not come from an animal. Then there was more noise. Sloshing of water and some choked coughing. It was a human, it couldn’t be anything else. But from all the time that Louis has spent in Sephalia, he had never seen another person in this forest. So who the hell could it possibly be?

The coughing did not cease and it slightly worried Louis. Carefully walking over to the other part of the stream that he couldn’t see from where he was sitting, he noticed a figure that was doubled over coughing up stream water. Very concerned for the person, he rushed over to their side and put a hand on the center of their back. “Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to do CPR on you? I was pretty shit at it in high schoo—“ The, by now what he figured to be a man, was still facing away from him, but held up a hand to cut him off. “No-no thank you, I’m—,” wheezes escaped the stranger’s throat, “I’m fine. Just please give me a minute.” 

Respecting the man’s wishes, he backed up a bit and removed his hand from their back. While the man seemed to just be coughing up the last of the water in his lungs, Louis couldn’t help but notice a familiarity from the back of the stranger. It was strange to think that he recognized someone from their back. Finally, the man turned around. “Thank— Louis!,” the blue eyed boy was suddenly gasping for air has we held in an extremely tight embrace. Too quickly for his liking, the man pulled back from the hug and that’s when he knew exactly who it was. Only one person he ever met in life, well Afterlife, had those one of a kind emerald eyes. “Harry! What—how did you—you’re soaked mate!” A breathless laugh escaped his lips. After all this time of thinking Harry would never show himself again, here he was, standing tall and drenched right in front of him. The younger boy just stood in front of Louis taking in all of him with a stupid childlike smile on his face. “Hey,” Harry giggled. Giggled. Fucking giggled. That’s a sound that Louis would keep in the back of his mind. “You dumb bitch, you fell in the stream?!” Once again, they were laughing. Harry may have laughed a little too hard and ended up choking again. Trying to gain their composure, they tried to keep straight faces on.

“It’s not my fault someone put the rock there,” he said whilst holding a pointed finger in the direction of a pretty good sized rock. “No one put the rock there, Harry. You’re just not very careful is what you are.” They both looked up and held each other’s gazes. Louis studied every feature of Harry and his heart was breaking more and more as he kept looking closer. His under eyes were much worse than they were last time. They were an angry red-purplish gloss. His skin was the white that you would see on someone that had just gotten all of their blood drained out of them. Overall, he looked much more frail. It frightened Louis that Harry looked so bad. Almost as if the green-eyed man knew what Louis was thinking, he quickly jumped to explanation.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, “I don’t know what happened. After waking up I somehow forgot everything that happened in my sleep. I forgot about the medication that I was supposed to be taking. It wasn’t until today when I stumbled across it and remembered what I was supposed to be doing. I haven’t slept in six days, Louis. And I—,” he took a deep, shaky breath, “I took a handful of pills. Now I’m here. In Sephalia. With you.” Louis knew he should’ve been upset with Harry for overdosing again, for thinking that was even a rational idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The poor boy in front of him looked so exhausted. Instead, he lightly placed his hand in Harry’s and led him over to the blanket where a sleeping Ollie was curled up into himself. He gestured for Harry to sit down and make himself comfortable. 

Looking around at what was scattered on the fairly large blanket, Harry saw many different types of fruits and dips to go along with it. He suddenly felt guilty for interrupting what was apparently supposed to be a relaxing afternoon in the forest. A plate of cut up fruits was placed in front of him. He turned to his left to give the blue-eyed lad a small smile. This was a completely different feeling for him. He doesn’t remember the last time he ever felt cared for. It was quite obvious to him that Louis noticed just how slim he was looking. And to tell the truth, he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. So for this boy that he only ever met once before to notice this change without making any comment on it was truly heartwarming. Picking up a vibrant yellow piece of pineapple, he popped it into his mouth and let his teeth sink into it. It had to have been some of the best pineapple he ever had. “You should really try that with some chocolate sauce. It’s like oral sex, but in food form,” Louis side commented to Harry. He felt himself giggle from the horrible comparison that the other man just made. Was it sad to say that Harry thought Louis was right, though? The flavors together were absolutely divine.

So they sat like that, eating fruit in a peaceful silence until the dark night sky took over. Even though he only ate fruit, his stomach felt heavy, so he thought that it would be best to lay back on the blanket. The night air was quite chilly and it didn’t do him any justice that he was still a little damp from the plunge that he took into the stream. Tiny slivers of stars were visible through the trees just above. The thought of it was strange. Right now he was looking at stars that belonged to a completely different universe. As much as this place looked exactly like Earth, he felt safer here. Over here, if felt like he was protected from harm’s way. Strange considering this place was the Afterlife. The Afterlife for addicts. 

“What’s going on in the curly head of yours?”. He did not realize that Louis had at one point laid down right next to him. They were so close that he could see the glint of moonlight in those crystal blue eyes. If he could, he would get lost in them forever. Shifting his gaze from the sky above, Louis turned to Harry waiting patiently for an answer. “Just thinking,” he answered quietly and honestly. “Don’t we all?” Louis joked back. Harry just turned to him and raised his eyebrows. Louis was such an interesting person. But sometimes he just had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “To think too much is to live less, young Harold.” The blue-eyed man averted his gaze back to the moonlit sky. Yes he loved the sunset in this place, but he loved the nighttime even more. “Oh really? Who said that?,” Harry playfully questioned, lightly elbowing Louis in his side. A small laugh escaped the smaller one’s lips. “I did,” he retorted back. “And so should I be taking advice from you Oh-Sacred-One?,” the younger one hit back at him. Louis let a sound escape himself that sounded as if someone had spit out soda from their mouths after receiving life changing news. “Shut up, you fell in the stream.” 

“Oh my God,” Harry face palmed himself, “Let it go would you?”. With a big smirk on his face, Louis turned to him and relentlessly poked at his cheek. “Not until you learn to respect your elders Oh-Arrogant-One,” he mocked Harry’s name-calling. Their back and forth joking died down and it fell into silence again. The wind was staring to pick up a little, making Harry subconsciously shiver. They laid there for another ten minutes until the cold became unbearable. Christ, wasn’t it supposed to be summer?

Sitting up, Louis tapped on Harry’s long leg to get his attention. “C’mon. It’s pretty obvious you’re cold. We can go back to my place and get you warmed up. I have an extra bed that you can sleep on for the night. Tomorrow I’ll show you around.” Rubbing at his eyes from pure exhaustion, Harry mustered up enough energy in him to ask the question that should seem quite obvious. “Sleep? You can sleep in dreams?” Louis whipped his head towards Harry and gave him a look of bewilderment. It almost looked as if he offended the man. “Yes, of course you can sleep in dreams. You can make yourself do whatever you desire, really.”

“Won’t I wake up, though? I mean, in real life?”

“From the looks of it, I’d say your fine. You’ll definitely be out for a good period of time. Now let’s go.”

Packing up all of Louis’ belongings and carefully wrapping Ollie up in a blanket, because Harry insisted he would freeze, they headed off to Louis’ place. 


	5. Chapter 5

Definitely not what he was expecting was how to describe Harry’s reaction once he entered Louis’ home. The first time he ever met him, the smaller man came off a little rugged to him, so he did not expect the man’s home to be nothing but an aesthetic. It was like a comfy little cottage home that you’d find in the mountains back on Earth. The interior of the home was made from oak wood and and gave off a very warm feeling. Hanging around the perimeter of the walls were strings of white fairy lights. They seemed to be the main source of light in the home even though there were perfectly working lamps scattered around. There were the normal appliances that you’d find in a typical home too such as a television, refrigerator, oven, a fireplace, and even an X-box. What struck the younger man the most though was the different instruments in the corner of the living room. Acoustic guitar, keyboard, and electric guitar all displayed carefully and proudly against the wall. His heart sped up at the thought of someone loving music just as much as he did. 

After they had gotten to Louis’ home, Louis went off to go get the extra bed ready for Harry to sleep in for the night. So Harry decided to take this time to roam around and maybe get more of a sense of what the other man is like. You know, learn a little more. Still freezing, he made a straight beeline for the comfy-looking sofa that was conveniently placed next to the fireplace. The orange flames gave off a pleasant heat that took away the frozen feeling from Harry’s limbs. Once he sat on the sofa, he immediately sunk right into it. If Louis didn’t have an extra bed, he would’ve been completely fine sleeping right where he was. It was almost like the sofa was built to suck all of the day’s stresses out of you as soon as you sat in it. And after everything that’s happened since he woke up only hours ago, he needed that feeling. 

Looking at the small table, next to the sofa, holding up the lamp, he noticed a few blank, white papers laying in a small pile. When he looked closer though, he noticed that they weren’t blank, but actually had faintly sketched drawings on them. Maybe it was wrong to pry on a stranger’s belongings, but Harry just had such a love for any type of art that he couldn’t help himself. Taking the papers in his hands, he could practically smell just how new these were from the aroma of the pencil ink. In the first drawing, there was a string of houses that all looked quite the same. It was like the Upper East Side, all of the houses in the neighborhood looked the same, that’s why it was so easy to get lost if you didn’t look closely at the numbers. The second drawing was the inside of a cafe. On one side was a woman that looked so lost in the book that she was reading, on the other side of the page was a man looking right at her whilst sipping on a cup of coffee. The man was most likely not trying to get caught by the beautiful woman. However, the third drawing is what caught him off guard. At first, he thought he was staring at a picture of an angel. Anyone would have guessed that by one glance;seeing a human body with feathery wings sticking out of its back. But as he looked at every detail more and more, he could’ve sworn it looked like him. The angel had long curly hair that went just passed the shoulders, and a slim, muscular back, and what appeared to be marked up arms. The answer was not clear enough to him, though. The beautifully drawn angel’s face was turned away from the viewer. 

“Dreams,” Harry jumped at the sound of a deep, accented voice from just over his shoulder. Frightened and breathless, he turned to Louis who wore a small smile on his face, looking down at the drawings in Harry’s hand. Suddenly feeling very guilty about prying, he set the pictures down on his lap and started fiddling with his hands. “I’m so sorry, Louis. I shouldn’t have been looking through your stuff. I just couldn’t help myself, they were really nice drawings.” Honestly, the older man should’ve told Harry off by now for snooping when he ever-so-kindly offered him a place to sleep, but somehow, probably due to the goodness of his heart, he smiled even more at Harry’s little rambling. Louis came over from behind the sofa and plopped himself on the armrest right next to the curly headed fellow. “Those drawings,” he started, “Those are dreams that I’ve had. I believe thatevery dream has a deeper story. Could be about anything, really. Dreams are stories from the past, present, and future.” 

Still looking down at his lap, Harry saw in the corner of his eye, a small hand with little ink markings on it take the three papers from atop of his legs. Before he set them back down on the table, Louis looked at them one last time, more specifically, the picture of the angel. Only he knew exactly who the angel was. Maybe Harry got an idea, but he wouldn’t have been able to know for sure when the creature’s head was turned. It was surreal knowing that the man that he had designed as a holy and spiritual figure, was only a few inches from him. He had drawn this picture because he thought that maybe the reason why the younger man wasn’t coming back to Sephalia was because he was angel and not a real person. An angel that noticed Louis’ loneliness and thought to spare him some company. Whether he actually was one or not, he would always be one in Louis’ eyes. It was practically a sin to be that beautiful. No human should ever look like that. Jealousy would be running ramped throughout the world. 

Softly stroking the gorgeous boy’s shoulder, he leaned closer to Harry’s ear, “C’mon Harry, it’s quite late and you need to get some sleep. Your bed is ready.” Slowly but surely, Harry’s green orbs met Louis’ blue ones. The flames from the fireplace burned deep in the green irises making them a beautiful mix of colors. They looked like blended paint on a canvas. He had no idea what it was about this boy, but whatever it was, it just felt right having him here. Jumping off the armrest and landing on his feet, Louis held out his hand for Harry to take. Since they were still fairly new with one another, gestures like these should have been taken with caution, but Harry seemed to take his hand with zero hesitation. The older man could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat from the soft feeling of Harry’s large hand in his small one. 

They walked in silence to the spare bedroom that was just across from Louis’ room. The only sound that could be heard in the house was their soft footsteps against the wooden floors. Using his free hand, not wanting to separate their enclosed hands just yet, Louis opened the door to what would be Harry’s room for the night. It was probably a lot different from what Harry thought he was going to be getting. In the younger man’s head, he pictured a plain room, with a small bed that was covered in thin white sheets. But to his surprise, the room was actually quite the opposite. It was a medium sized room with a queen sized bed, fluffy blankets laid out neatly above it, a large window on the side showcasing the beautiful town, and framed pictures all around. This room seemed to be missing the fairy lights, though. Instead, there were little scented candles that were making the room glow. “Hope you like it. I know it’s not much, but I wanted you to feel at home,” Louis spoke with a soft voice, careful not to disturb the quiet. 

Home. Harry didn’t really remember what ‘home’ felt like. But now, he was sure he could feel it. The thought of how much effort Louis put into doing all of this for him made it feel even more special. Louis may have said it wasn’t much, but to Harry, this was everything. In these last four years, he realized just how little he actually had. It was honestly laughable. But right here, right in this spare bedroom that he would get to call his for a night, he felt like he had everything he ever could have wanted. Turning to the smaller boy beside him he spoke in a choked up voice, “No, no. Louis, this is honestly amazing. Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to go through all of this trouble for me. I would’ve been fine with just a mattress and sheet.” Astonished by Harry’s words, Louis whipped his head up to meet Harry’s gaze. There was so much appreciation held in those green eyes of his, and it made Louis wonder what Harry’s life on Earth was like. He could swear he did the bare minimum for his guest, so why did this seem like the best thing that has happened to Harry in years? 

“As if I would let you sleep in just a sheet after how I saw you shivering in the forest. It’s honestly no problem Haz— sorry, is that okay to call you?,” Harry nodded giving him his approval, “There are some clothes over there on the chair if you want to change out of what you’re wearing right now. I’m sure you don’t want to go to sleep smelling like stream water.” Louis chuckled while Harry just playfully rolled his eyes. The man would never let it go, would he? For the first time, noticing the clothes piled on the chair next to the window, he walked over to them and picked them up. It was a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt. They both looked a little small for him, but he made no comment because he was honestly so grateful. Going to sleep in his stream water-smelling clothes did sound rather unappealing. He knew though in this moment that if he somehow ever ended up back here in Sephalia ever again, he would return the favor to Louis. It didn’t seem fair that someone would do this much for him. 

Minutes appeared to pass by at a snail’s pace as both of the men stood there in the bedroom looking at each other. Maybe it would’ve been weird if it weren’t for the strange affection that they both felt for each other, but would certainly not mention to the other. Time finally caught up to the smaller man and he let out a small yawn and deciding it was really late at this point, he walked over to Harry. “Goodnight Haz, hope you’re comfortable enough. Oh, and don’t worry about what time you’re up, I’ll have breakfast ready for the both of us and then we’ll be on our way to explore Sephalia.” With a small smile on his tired face, Louis turned to walk to his room. However, Harry couldn’t tell you why the hell he did it, maybe it was just in the adrenaline coursing through his body, he gently grabbed Louis’ arm and turned him around to face him. Just as he was about to ask Harry if there was a problem, Harry swiftly bent down a little to match Louis’ height, and kissed his cheek. It definitely had to be the adrenaline, because he suddenly gained a newfound confidence and said to the other man, “Goodnight Lou, sweet dreams.” 

Stunned, all Louis could do was nod his head and quickly leave the room. Once the door had shut behind Louis and he could hear the other bedroom door shut, all the adrenaline and confidence flooded out of Harry. What the hell had he just done? He’s so stupid, Louis probably thinks he’s some perverted weirdo now. Slowly walking over to the bed, he sat down as if he were afraid the frame was going to snap in half and take both him and the mattress down to the floor. He lightly placed the extra clothes he was given down next to him and just stared. Stared at the floor. A feeling that was all too familiar started to wash over him; heartbreak. Harry felt like his heart was being pulled at and tiny pieces were being taken out. There was no explanation as to why he suddenly felt like this. And there certainly was no explanation for the tears that were now pooling his eyes and threatening to spill out. It couldn’t possibly be because of what just happened with him and Louis, could it? But the mention of the other man’s name going through his head suddenly made the hot, salty water in his eyes break free. His confusion and frustration for not understanding this emotion only brought him to more tears. Harry laid down on top of the blankets and rolled over on his side, muffling out his soft sobs as best as he could.

Ever since that one day, four years ago, Harry has rarely ever cried. When did though, he would cry for a long time. Even when the sobs would bring him to a slumber, he would still be crying then. For all the little good that the gods above could possibly do for him, he prayed that if he fell asleep, Louis wouldn’t hear him cry. It would only put a burden on Harry and Louis that he knew neither of them desired. Although the cool breeze from the air conditioning was making his skin form goosebumps, he couldn’t care all that much because all of his attention was focused on the unknown pain he was currently experiencing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew, he  knew  what it was , but he didn’t dare to admit it. Eventually, his muffled cries brought him to sleep, but they never truly stopped.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Doncaster boy lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling. No, it certainly wasn’t interesting, but sleep never came around to him. After Harry had kissed his cheek, any trace of tiredness left his body. All he could think about when he felt those soft lips on his cheek was how much his heart was accelerating. A lesson he learned when he was in the Life was that the gorgeous boys, ones like Harry, were dangerous. The second you saw them, you would feel like you fell in love, but in the end you got yourself a broken heart. Yes, he did run into a few of those and did get his heart handed back to him on a silver platter, but the first time he ever saw Harry, it felt different from the others. Many nights he had stayed up wondering if it was just because he hadn’t had interaction with anyone around his age for three months once he joined the Afterlife. But when the dreams started, that’s when he felt like maybe that wasn’t the reason. He was beyond confused. However, there was one thing that he knew that would complicate everything: He could  not  fall for someone like Harry Styles, it was a forbidden love. Louis is dead, Harry is alive, therefore the math does not add up. And that was final.

As much as he knew that his heart wouldn’t like it, he decided not to act on his feelings. Feelings; was that what he had for the man just across the hall? Everything would be better for the two if Louis just left it alone. Hell, Harry probably doesn’t feel anything for Louis anyway. He’s always thought of himself as unlovable. On Earth, everyone always talked about soulmates; finding the person that is made just for you and spending the rest of your life with them. Throughout his high school and college years, up until he died, he’d dated a few boys and girls. Each one ended up being not the one for him. He always fell so out of love so fast. Sometimes he wondered; if he hadn’t died so young, would he have found the one? His soulmate? Maybe he had met his soulmate in the Life and he just didn’t know. God, he felt so bad for whoever that poor soul was. But maybe it was for the best, who would want their soulmate to be some useless druggie? A disappointment was what Louis Tomlinson was.  Is .

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he mustered up enough energy to shift his head and look at the digital clock on his nightstand. It had read 3:17 a.m. . He only got in bed almost four hours ago. That left him quite frustrated. Maybe it was his imagination or his lack of sleep that was kicking in, but he swore he heard a hiccup-kind-of-sound coming from the other room. Listening closely again, because who knows it could be an intruder, another sound came but this time it sounded like...a sob? Who would be— he immediately shot out of bed, throwing the covers off of himself, and exiting his room to stand outside of the one right across from his. Putting his ear up to the wooden door, he could hear small sniffles and shaky breaths being produced from the man inside. Louis knew that he only just said that he wouldn’t act on his feelings, but this has nothing to do with feelings, but everything to do with being a decent human being. 

Lightly turning the knob of the door, so it wouldn’t scare Harry, he slipped inside the room. The only light that was being given off in the room were the four lit candles, not making it easy to see. Walking closer to the bed, his eyes were somewhat adjusting to the darkness, he could tell that Harry was facing away from him. Seeing that there was just enough room to sit next to Harry’s side, he placed himself down and lightly tapped the man’s arm. When his finger collided with the fabric of the clothing, he noticed that Harry was still wearing the same clothes from when he arrived in Sephalia before. The clothes that Louis had put out for Harry were laying right next to him, still folded up. And another thing, he was not even under the blankets, his pale skin was frozen to the touch. Proceeding to keep tapping Harry’s arm to get his attention and ask him what’s wrong, he came to realize that the boy was ignoring him. As much as that hurt, Louis was not going to leave this room until he found out why this boy was crying. Could it possibly have been because of Louis’ reaction after the kiss and how he just walked out? If it was that, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for hurting this beautiful creature.

Taking a peek over Harry’s slender body to see his face, Louis was instantly shocked. Harry was sleeping. He felt his heart breaking all over again for the boy. Crying while awake was one thing, but to be crying while you are asleep meant that something bad must have happened. The sight was honestly too much for Louis. Harry was in such a vulnerable state and Louis couldn’t do anything to make him feel better. Thinking of what he could do for the boy who still had choked sobs escaping his lips, those pink lips that had only been on his cheeks just a few short hours ago, he got up from the bed and took two of the spare blankets. Quickly unfolding them, he placed them over Harry’s unmoving figure, hoping that it would warm him up. The small boy came back over to the bedside where he could fit himself, and maybe it was overstepping boundaries, but he didn’t want the boy to wake up with a dry, tear-crusted face, so he grabbed a tissue and took Harry’s face into his delicate hands. He gently dabbed the soft tissue under the boy’s eyes collecting all of the wetness. Then, he quickly swiped under his nose to get anything that might have come out. Sure this may have been a little gross to some people, but to be able to take care of someone like this, it felt good to Louis.

After discarding the dirty tissues in a wastebasket nearby, he looked back at the bed. The sobs seemed to have ceased after he cleaned his face. Every once in a while there was the occasional sharp intake of breath. All Louis wanted to do in that moment was take the boy into his arms and hold him until the sun rose, but he knew that was not of best interest. He had to keep his distance. It would be entirely his fault if Harry ever fell for Louis. No matter who it was that fell, they would be torn up in the end. Maybe it was a mistake that Louis asked for him to come back just once more. No, it wasn’t a mistake. It was just pure selfishness. Remembering once more that he shouldn’t act too much on his heart, Louis walked over to Harry and bent down so he was just above the boy’s head. He lowered himself just a little more and planted a soft kiss to his forehead, just like the first time they ever met in the forest when Harry was having a panic attack. At the feeling of the contact, the taller boy’s unconscious self seemed to relax from the tense form it was in before. With that, Louis left the room to go get some sleep himself.

— — — — — — — —

“And that concludes our tour of Sephalia, no questions will be taken, please and thank you,” Louis finishes as he and Harry end up back at Louis’ house. They had been out for a good three hours, Louis giving Harry that promised tour of the place. Everything that Louis had said seemed to interest Harry so much. He was a very intent listener and always had a new question to ask. History class was always very boring to Harry, he had always found himself falling asleep in it, but learning the history of Sephalia was a whole new level of interesting. To be honest, he didn’t know what made it so interesting, was it the actual story, or was it the person that was telling him the story? He had woken up in a much better mood than the one he remembered falling asleep with. The warm and fuzzy blankets that encased him gave off a feeling of protection, comfort, and care. Although, he doesn’t quite remember putting the blankets on himself. So he just figured that he did it in his sleep. Maybe his mood would’ve remained that chipper if it weren’t for how he noticed that Louis appeared to be acting distant. The humor and boy-ish arrogance still was there, but the actual distance between them was not normal. He would’ve questioned it, but maybe it wasn’t best to do so. 

They stayed away from the topic of last night. Neither of them thought it would be a good idea, they should just move on and forget about it. Unfortunately though, it was very hard for either of the two to forget about it. Harry still had no idea about the second event that had happened that night when he fell asleep. He thought he had escaped with his cries not being heard, but little did he know. Louis was satisfied that they were just going on as if the night before never happened. Today would be his last day ever with Harry, though. Once the younger boy woke up in his apartment back in New York, he would never come back to Sephalia ever again. No, they hadn’t talked about that yet. When the time does come, Louis will make sure to be very stern with Harry and making sure that he stays in good health. Someone like Harry belonged in an Afterlife like Heaven. However, Louis was a little scared of just how much the other man seemed to be enjoying his tour of the place. Maybe this was all a terrible idea. If Harry liked this place just as much as his facial expressions revealed, then he was certain to keep coming back until he ended up dead. 

With a sigh, he inserted the key into the lock of the front door and pushed it open so they could get back into the refreshing air conditioning. It was a really hot day and both of them looked like they just took a bath in their own sweat. Both on the same wavelength, they moved to the couches in the living room that were right next to the white machines producing the cool air. The couches faced opposite of each other with a coffee table in the middle that was separating them from each other. Good, was Louis’ thought. They needed this little barrier between them. Looking back at a sweaty Harry, he thought he was about to watch the boy wretch all over his floor, but thank God, he was just bending over to tie his long hair up into a bun. Realizing that his hair was also annoyingly sticking to his forehead, he pulled open the drawer on the lamp table next to him and took out a headband to push it back. 

By the time he looked back up, he saw that Harry was eyeing his instruments that were right next to him. There was a small light in his eyes that glowed when he eyed them. It was like when you put a piece of candy in front of a child and their eyes go big with joy and want. That was what Harry looked like right now. “Do you play?,” he asked genuinely out of curiosity and Harry seemed to be spooked by the sudden sound of his voice. It was a little concerning how he always seemed to pulling Harry out of some deep thought. Almost like he was drowning in his head and gasping for air, but only receiving lungfuls of water. Taking a deep breath, the other boy answered, “Yeah, I play all the time on Earth. I wanted to be a singer and songwriter, but it’s stupid. I have no chance.” He hung his head down in shame. The poor thing looked like he just had his spirit crushed at the realization that his dream would never come true. This hurt Louis personally because when he was a kid, way before his drug addiction started, his mother always used to tell him to never give up on his dreams. However, Louis, the disappointment of a child that he was, threw away all of his dreams just to get dangerously high and drunk every night. Everyone deserved to have a successful future. He knew he couldn’t let Harry give up on himself like that. If he did, his life would just become overdosing on melatonin pills every night.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid Haz. If you’re really that passionate about something, then you should keep trying until you finally succeed. You can’t just give up that easily,” Harry was now looking him dead in the eyes, green eyes holding a softness in them. “Look at all of those artists out there. They were like you at one point. They started out as nothing, and now they’re making music for everyone around the world to enjoy. All it took was lots of hard work and a shit ton of patience. So don’t call your dream stupid. Funny enough, I wanted to be a singer myself. That’s why I have these,” he pointed to the three instruments. Louis knew exactly where the man was coming from. He only ever realized how stupid it was to give up on his dreams until he was dead. He never gave himself enough time. From the get-go he thought he would be racking up listeners, but when he realized that he wasn’t getting much of anything in the first couple of months, he gave up. Cocaine and hard liquor became a new dream. 

After that unexpected speech, all Harry could feel was pure understanding from the man across from him. They shared a common dream, Louis knew he fucked up, and now he’s trying to warn Harry that he can’t give up. It was almost as if Louis was using Harry as a redemption for something that he couldn’t achieve. Advice from a friend or family member was one thing, but to be getting this kind of strong advice from someone that was almost a stranger was something different. Strangers don’t just give out inspiring advice, they do it when they realize that someone has potential. And he didn’t really know what Louis really did see in him, but there was something there inside of him that made Louis realize he’s worth something. Harry hadn’t felt like he was worth something in the past four years. “It’s the only thing I have back on Earth, Louis. The only thing that keeps me sane. Music is how I escape reality, a reality that I don’t want to face.” The words left his mouth with a cold iciness. One laced in fear. Louis uncrossed his legs from underneath him and stood up. Harry’s heart broke a little, he thought the man was just about to leave Harry with his baggage. Did he put too much on Louis? Shit, he shouldn’t have done that. He was about to start apologizing until he saw something light brown hang in front of his face. His gaze shifted up to meet the acoustic guitar that was only just lying next to him on its stand.

Louis was holding it out to him, waiting for Harry to take it into his own hands. Slowly, he reached out and placed it into his lap. “Play for me, Harry. I’ll be your audience. No judgement, no shame. Just me, you, and that guitar.” The younger man looked up to the small man that was now sitting down next to him, looking at him expectantly. He wasn’t sure if he should do it. What if Louis thought that his voice was terrible? What if Louis laughed at him? What if in the end Louis thought Harry’s dream actually was stupid? Thinking of all the bad things that could possibly come out of this, he suddenly felt a small hand on his jean clad thigh. “Please? For me?,” and now there was no way he could possibly say no to this. The man’s voice was so soft and so hopeful. No one except for Calum ever had the opportunity to hear Harry sing in front of them, and maybe since Louis is dead, when he wakes up back in New York he can forget this ever happened if anything goes wrong. 

Giving the man a small nod, he felt Louis’ hand move from his thigh back to his own lap. Before he started, he took a few deep breaths just to calm down his nerves. He realized that he needed to choose a song that would sound well when played it on the acoustic guitar. Then it hit him. Back in New York, after discovering what happened to Calum and seeing that he was in a famous band, he took it upon himself to listen to one of their more popular songs. The song instantly became a very personal one to Harry. One he absolutely loved. So in honor of his old friend, and a song that would really get him into a mood that would bring out pure emotion, he started to play the opening cords of Amnesia. 

Louis, as promised, sat there and listened. He brought his knees up to his chest so he could get more comfortable while listening to Harry’s voice. To say the least, he was absolutely blown away by the boy’s performance. He could hear raw emotion coming from his voice. It was so beautifully heartbreaking. While he was singing, all Louis could think of was how this used to be him in the Life, before he gave up. Singing was like going into your own world. A world where it was okay to pour out your insecurities, heartbreak, and emotion and hand it out to the world and no one would judge you for it. Music really did take you away from reality. And reality was a scary place. The world was a scary place. Music was a world that only you lived in. A world where you couldn’t be harmed. A world where you wouldn’t receive any more pain, but rather finally let it all go. 

When Harry finally finished with the haunting last lyrics of “I’m really not fine at all”, Louis hadn’t realized that tears had been running down his own face. He took the collar of his shirt and brought to his face so he could get the warm, salty water off. Maybe Harry had already been looking at him, or the sounds of his sniffling gave him away, but all he knew was that suddenly the guitar was laying on the opposite side of the couch and Harry was sitting right up against him. Words did not need to be spoken between the two to understand what had just happened. Louis rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry rested his chin on Louis’ head. Artists always seemed to understand one another and the emotion that comes from their music. But why that song? Out of all of the songs, why would Harry choose to sing something as heartbreaking as that? Louis knew the song. He remembered the first time he ever heard it on Earth a few years ago. The song tore him up then, but now it hurt even more. The story of Amnesia was to wish that you could wake up and forget all the bad things that happened in life and just be happy again. When Harry was singing it, all he could hear was his personal hurt. Maybe he didn’t know what actually happened to the boy, but he knew that there was a lot bottled up in there. Harry wasn’t fine. 

The two had thought time was going by slowly, but it was actually going quite fast. When they both cuddled into each other it was light out, the sun was shining brightly and the birds were still singing, but somehow it was now dark outside. The whole house was pitch black considering that there was not one source of light on. Until a light suddenly flashed in his eyes, and the sudden burst of brightness caused him to jump from his position that he had been in for hours. The smaller boy quickly took his head off of Harry’s shoulder, his grogginess indicating that he had fell asleep, and looked up to the now startled looking Harry. “What’s wrong, Harry? Did something happen?,” his voice came out all scratchy, but the concern was definitely etched in there. Harry was looking around frantically and confused as if he saw a ghost and was trying to locate it. “Did you turn on a light?,” he questioned. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Louis squinted at Harry’s dark figure that looked just like a shadow of a person on the pavement on a bright sunny day. Reaching over to the table beside him, he pulled down the metal string that turned on the lamp. “Now I did. What’s this all about?”

The tall man sat back into the couch and rested his face in both of his hands. Every once in a while he would flinch as if some ghostly spirit was poking him. “I keep seeing flashes of bright light. I thought at first you had turned on a lamp, but you were sleeping so it couldn’t have been you. They just keep coming and I feel like—,” he swallowed before he started again, “I feel like I’m spacing out. One second I’m here, and the next second I feel like I’m somewhere else.” Taking in Harry’s words, Louis tried to think of any possible explanation. Could he just be dehydrated? Believing that that was most likely what was happening, he handed Harry a bottle of water that he got from the fridge. A few minutes later, Harry reported he was still seeing the flashes and they were becoming much more frequent. And that’s when it finally clicked.

With a sunken heart he started, “Harry, you’re waking up.” Harry lifted his head back up and looked Louis in his eyes. He looked at him with such disbelief like he didn’t know that he would ever be waking up from this dream. Strange it was, this wasn’t really a dream, it was actually happening, but how else would you describe this? Tears started forming in Harry’s eyes, making Louis believe that he really thought he was never going to wake up. “Waking up? Louis,” his voice started wobbling, “I don’t want to wake up. Please, I don’t want to go back there.” 

Louis just sighed. He told himself that this was going to happen and he didn’t listen. It was so stupid to believe that Harry would want to go back to Earth after all they’ve done in the short span of time they had in Sephalia. They were starting to grow a forbidden bond. This had to stop now. He had to break it to Harry that this could not continue. This would only end up going up in flames if it kept happening. 

“Harry, I’m sorry, but you have to go back. As much as this hurts for me to say to you,” he exhaled, “Don’t come back.” At those words, the tears in Harry’s eyes were now spilling out. This had to be some sort of sick joke on Louis’ part. Thinking back to their first ever time meeting in the forest, just before he woke up, he remembered how Louis told him he shouldn’t come back to Sephalia. How it was too dangerous for him to continue like this. But why, why would he want to stop coming here when this place, this beautiful place, took him away from all of the pain on Earth? Over here, he didn’t feel that pain. For whatever reason, when he was here with Louis, he didn’t feel like he had to worry about anything. Louis had just seen him sing his heart out only a few hours ago, he noticed Harry’s pain, so why would he want him to leave?

“You can’t be serious.”

“I very much am.”

“Why? Why do you not want me here? Did I do something wrong? Listen, I’m sorry about last—“

“It has morning to do with last night Harry.”

“Then what?”

“Us. You.”

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever is going on here between us, this sort of bond that we have formed is influencing you to come back here. By you doing this, you’re risking your life. You should know this.”

“I do know that.”

“So why do you want to come back here?”

“Don’t you see, Louis? I have nothing on Earth. No one. At least here I have you to talk to. Over here I can let go of all that pain that I feel over there. Don’t  you  see that?”

“No I don’t. I’m sorry for whatever happened to you over there, but it is certainly not worth risking your life for.”

“And how would you know that, huh?! You don’t know shit about me Louis! Stop acting like you do! Weren’t you the one who told me a week ago that you weren’t going to make decisions for me? So why do you suddenly want to make them for me? You have no business in doing that. I’m sorry that you fucked up your life, Louis. I’m sorry that you ended up here. But I know what I’m doing with mine. If I come back here, that’s my decision. If I don’t, then congratulations, you got what you wanted.”

The last thing he saw before the flashing lights finally consumed him was a distraught, tear-stained faced Louis. 

**Author's Note:**

> i’ll try and update this as much as possible!


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